Blankets (Nevermore)
by Nefertirisan
Summary: Glenn is cold. And Daryl has the blankets. Rated T for... What what? Snuggling?


Contributing to the Fandom of the wonderful Glenn and Daryl.

As always **DISCLAIMER**: ALL CHARACTERS, IDEAS, ETC., belong to... WALKING DEAD. NOT MINE

Much love and thanks to my lovely friend, **MINAPULKINS8997**, who gave me the idea for the story. Please check out his stories as well! :)

Sort of inspired... (not really) by Edgar Ellen Poe's "Nevermore" (well, just that title, I guess)

**BLANKETS**

His body violently jerked awake. Something was horribly amiss.

Glenn was cold.

So utterly and furiously _cold_.

With his arms and legs bare and chilled raw against the unforgiving Georgia winter morning, Glenn squirmed and shivered, yearning and aching for the robbed warmth, wanting nothing more than to tunnel deeper back into the sleep-induced oblivion and avoid the inevitable start of walker-packed day.

_Five more minutes, prettyprettyprettyplease..._

Outstretching his right arm behind his back, his icy hand began to roam around, probing half aimlessly for the familiar touch of fabric. It wasn't long before he found what he was looking for. With his fingers immediately hitching onto the folds of blanket rolled and tucked behind his waist, he balled up a fist and yanked as hard as he could.

Yet it remained solidly and nauseatingly still, snagged by something unknown. He tugged again, but to no avail. _What in the zombiefied hell?_ Wholly provoked and firing open his lethargic, tired eyes, Glenn slowly lifted his heavy head and let out an annoyed sigh. He frowned when he saw the white ghost of his breath appear before his eyes.

Damn. It was _really_ cold.

Lazily shoving aside the cascade of messy, dark hair that haphazardly poked and probed at his tired eyes, Glenn pulled his compressed left arm from underneath and grabbed hold of the rolled cover and heaved upward once more. His reward was a provoked, gruff grunt and a dramatic shuffling of the sheets. The weight beside him shifted and lurched away, and to his horror, the blanket was snatched from his promising hands.

Glenn promptly realized it wasn't some_thing_ that the bloody blanket was anchored to, it was _someone_. Defeated, Glenn hoisted his body to his side and propped his groggy head on his elbow only to look down upon a half-naked redneck sprawled sloppily beside him.

_Go figure_.

Repressing the inner, boiling rage to (tae-kwon-do) karate- kick him off the flattened futon they improvised and managed to call a makeshift 'bed', Glenn huffed an aimed sigh at his matted bangs.

It was way too early for this.

He grated a slow and infuriated hand down his sleep-etched face, rubbing the heel on his fatigued eyelids. From the way his dull muscles ached and screamed in protest (from the lack of proper sleep and the fact he slept on the repulsively hard and frozen floor of the vinyl tent), it couldn't have been any earlier than the crack of dawn.

His left eye refused to remain open, and it stung with its pin prick audacity as he tried to scan the messy excuse of a tent he had grown absurdly fond of sharing with the said annoying man-who stubbornly and presently snored away beside him. He managed with his right eye. Even at his tired state, Glenn focused his ears, honing and zoning in on his surroundings.

All was well.

At least, for the moment.

The air was stagnant, eerily but somehow comfortably silent, shrouded with the thick fog of sleep-no shuffling, scraping, or the spine-chilling moan of the dead (who refused to remain dead) filled his ears. From the tone of the unrelenting silence, he knew the others were still sound asleep in their respective tents, and he wanted nothing more than to join them in their delicious, dream-filled ecstasy. The last thing he wanted was to face the cold-hard, oxymoron reality of whence the 'dead walk the earth'. He shivered at the thought.

Shivered...

Furrowing his eyebrows and gritting his teeth, Glenn suddenly lunged forward, clawed at the fabric, and yanked as hard as his drained body could, finally extracting the covers from the sleeping man. The hasty, but surprisingly powerful maneuver detangled the figure from the covers and made him instinctively turn to face him.

Glenn's victory was cut short. The man made no move to free the precious covers but instead shot out his naked arm, snagged Glenn's elbow, and pulled the Korean's cold body suddenly against his chest. An arm slithered across Glenn's back possessively and a low and muffled rumble of the redneck's deep voice signified he was indeed awake. Glenn blinked.

Well now.

Sure, other times Glenn wouldn't have minded the display of this apparent affection. Hell, he'd have eagerly welcomed it. But not now- he was too damn cold.

"Daryl. Blanket," Glenn griped impatiently, instantaneously pushing against the man's bare chest and trying to release the redneck's sudden vice-like grip on his waist.

Really now.

Daryl's eyes and face remained motionless and stoic as he made no moves to comply and suitably ignored the younger man's death-like request. His grip only tightened as he moved to bury his head in the crook of the Korean's neck. Exasperated, Glenn clawed and dug his sharp nails into his chest and stomach, hoping to grant the man's stone body some grief.

"_Daarr-yyylll_! I want some of the blankets," he protested, hissing loud in his ear and struggled, moving his hand now to shake off the iron wrists clamped on his lower back. He leaned his body back further, hoping that the sheer weight would break off the man's overprotective grasp.

But adding onto his rising insult, Daryl only responded with a somnolent groan, pulling the dark-haired man slowly further inwards, all too easily overwhelming the solid efforts. Teasing him.

"Seriously! Of all the_ ridiculous_-"

As Glenn began to open his mouth in reprimand, Daryl dove and niftily enveloped his lips with his chapped ones, swallowing the irate words.

Taken entirely off guard, Glenn's eyes widened before they shut involuntarily, allowing the sudden kiss to send his mind into a sweet stupor. Daryl's lips and kiss were surprisingly soft, tolerable, and ached of half-heartedness. Glenn's eyes shot open again and bore into Daryl's immobile ones. Then, with premeditated vengeance, he sank his sharp teeth into Daryl's lower lip, biting down- hard.

Glenn felt the man shift a little beneath him and smirked inwardly, hoping now to have Daryl release the tyrannical reign on his imprisoned blanket. But instead of recoiling his injured lip from Glenn's zealous ones, Daryl dove and sank onto them, crushing and deepening the kiss and drawing the other inevitably closer. Raising his large hand upward, he carefully caressed and cradled the back of the Asian's neck, gingerly running his fingers against the ebony hair and eliminating the space in-between.

With all his reasoning hastily flung out the window, Glenn felt his eyes leisurely shut again as he fell deeper into the fervent kiss. A small gasp escaped his parted lips as Daryl continued to explore his pleasurably and he could only respond intuitively to his demands. Delicious tingles spread across his heart and body as his heartbeat accelerated with each kiss. Glenn's free hand slowly made its way up Daryl's hair and gently tugged. He shivered as Daryl lips parted his again, claiming and demanding entry into his mouth. Glenn shivered.

Shivered.

_Shivered..._

God~dammit.

Glenn stiffened as his mind siphoned back to his very present and grave situation. He was still freezing, bitterly so, in fact. His blanket- his sweet, warm and tender blanket, was still under the redneck's totalitarian rule and was kept stolen from his frigid body. At this, Glenn cast another furious look.

_The slimy bastard_. The older man knew his weakness and took every chance to get a kick out of it. Literally. Glenn played along while Daryl's calloused hands danced lower onto his back and slithered his way up his shirt.

He meant to catch him off guard again.

Har har har...Not today!

Daryl's rough and calloused hand began to peel his shirt off his stomach and Glenn practically glowered, prying and studying Daryl's familiar features, uncovering the conniving and devious scheme he had hidden under a feigned innocent and sleepy demeanor.

Two years plunged into the geek-filled world-pouncing, scavenging, and hunting for sheer survival besides Daryl Dixon,_ the _scalawag, had only made him grow sharply aware of his skillful and yet cunning conspiracy and tactics. Thinking back, Glenn had to question his own damned, walker-free sanity on why he had agreed tie himself down to this big, half-naked oaf for all eternity-swear himself to him in front of the world (the members of the camp), or what's left of it anyway.

He was an arrogant, self-centered, short-tempered, sailor-mouthed, crossbow-wielding, racist redneck- who hurled, and all but threw up insults in an incessant verbal diarrhea on a daily basis. They were complete opposites and butted heads every day without fail over the most minute things. And, heavens above, it did _not _help the fact Daryl was awfully possessive over him, darn nearing treating Glenn like some merchandise.

He had a way with his haughty words and that disconcerting deep-blue eyed stare of his. Glenn could feel the churning aggravation well in his chest just at the sheer thought. This older man knew how to push all his buttons, grate and exasperate the very nerve that made Glenn sane in the very insane remnants of the world. It seemed as if he practically lived and thrived off it.

"_Daryl Dixon,_" He growled, clutching and gripping his ever-roaming hands from voyaging any lower, "I'm fucking freezing. Give me the blanket... _now_!"

Daryl then popped an eye open, the hazy shade of sleep still prowling in the pools of his sky-blue orbs. Shadows from his growing stubble graced his sharp features and his ridiculous brown hair was struck out in odd, yet deliberate angels. Yet something in his vivid gaze made Glenn catch his heart and breath in his throat. He tried to blink and steady his enamored mind.

Both eyes opened and darkened considerably as he locked his cerulean eyes with darker brown, a quiet dare filing the abruptly hot air. Glenn felt his cheeks flush, his stomach coil, his heart race, and his eyes dilate. No other man-_person_- had made him feel quite like this.

No one.

Not one.

All except him.

But...

He would have it no other way.

Despite the constant turmoil and the inexorable faults Daryl flooded him with, and the hair-pulling, dangerous moments of his life-threatening and irrational deeds, Glenn had to confess without a single cloud of doubt that he did indeed..._love_ the infuriating lout. Helplessly and very much so, in fact.

Bickering about the little, trivial things made everything at least seem _normal_. It made him feel and appreciate the most underlined and vital thing- that he was _alive_. Human. Safe. When they bickered over small, even ridiculous things, it made the world seem all right, better, and normal.

Daryl was a solid rock, _his_ solid foundation that stood firm and secure in the wave of dying and insecure humanity. In the present and constant nightmare, brimming with the sharp contrast between the dead and the living, Daryl served as a beacon. Silent, strong, and so brilliantly bright in the darkness. The strong calloused hand that wielded the crossbow protected others and gave the people hope.

It gave _him_ hope.

Hope that they may actually make it alive. That they may actually make it through this zombiefied hellhole. As long as they were together. And Glenn couldn't think of anyone else he'd be with than Daryl. The protector, the hunter, and the lover.

Sensing his hesitation, Daryl reached and started for him again. Nimbly reading his intentions, Glenn pressed a firm hand on his hard chest. Their eyes met again and Glenn held the gaze.

"I'm _cold_...Daryl."

Daryl's eyes furrowed as they instantly heated and danced with familiar and burning passion, making Glenn's heart leap and his lips to part with expectancy.

"Nevermore, Glenn," he murmured quietly, his deep voice filling the air for the first time. Daryl pushed his hand against Glenn's back and cloaked the younger man's body decisively to his.

"Nevermore," he echoed again against Glenn's lips.

:) :) Please let me know what you think :) :) Reviews much appreciated!


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